taken a too-expensive Uber to Midtown.
The stress and the snacking were getting to me.
“Grace,” the receptionist called.
“Yes?” I jumped up, camera bag banging my leg. I had a job to go to after this. Otherwise, I would have left it in the office.
I felt like the awkward girl in middle school as I trucked after the receptionist as she led me back into the bright, daylight-filled office to a glass-enclosed conference room.
“You will be meeting with two of our senior editors,” she chirped, opening the door for me. “Tea? Coffee? Water?”
“No, thanks,” I said.
“Grace!”
A well-dressed middle-aged woman with a silver bob stuck out her hand to greet me. “Victoria. Great to meet you. This is Addison, one of our editors.”
Ah, shit.
Addison’s nose turned up.
“This is who Evan Harrington asked that we meet with?”
Victoria’s smile stayed plastered to her face, but it was clear she was confused.
“Addison is one of my brides,” I explained in a rush, starting to sweat. It was awkward enough seeing one of your clients out in the wild. And Addison was furious I had invaded her turf!
“I really appreciate the meeting,” I said as we sat down inside the conference room.
“It’s going to be quick,” Addison said sourly. “Victoria and I are very busy. And honestly, there is not a lot of demand for a coffee-table book.”
“I think the book would work well for offices or for people who like fashion and design and decorating,” I said, putting my large bag on the table to fish out the printouts of the sample pages. “It could also be a great gift for people to give to their friends who are planning to or have recently gotten married.”
My palms were sweaty as I tried to pry the folder out of the stuffed bag. It was stuck on something.
“I just have to get this out, and I can show you—crap!”
The folder had wiggled free, but it had also dislodged a confetti of rainbow-colored condoms all over the glass table. Several bounced to the floor.
“Sorry!” I said, scrambling to pick them all up.
Victoria raised a perfect eyebrow while Addison’s face was so pinched I thought she would split right down the perfect center part of her hair.
“Guess you’re enjoying married life!” Victoria joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Marriage in a Minute is my new addiction, by the way. I was half hoping you were going to come in here wanting to write a tell-all. But I’m sure they have you wrapped up in NDAs.”
“These aren’t mine,” I tried to explain, stuffing the condoms back into my bag.
“You’re cheating on your husband?” Addison said in horror.
“I, er…I just mean my friends gave them to me as a joke, and I will be promptly getting new friends. But these aren’t big enough for him,” I explained, zipping the bag up.
Victoria was intrigued. “Now I definitely want a tell-all!”
“But we aren’t interested in your coffee-table book,” Addison said. She picked up one of the printouts with two fingers, barely glanced at it, then put it aside.
“No,” she said, “I don’t think there’s any market demand for this type of book at all.”
My professional expression was fixed firmly on my face, though inside I was crushed.
Oh well, I tried to console myself. At least you tried.
“Now wait a minute,” Victoria said. “There could be a market demand if you play your cards right.” She tapped her pen on her notepad thoughtfully.
“People do like weddings. There is a huge market for bridal content. What if you formatted the book as more like a style guide, like, these types of dresses, flowers, and decor are what’s popular this year. It can be a big thing for a bride to be chosen to be in the book.” Victoria looked through the pages.
“You have the Holbrooks in here, you have the Svenssons. High-society types do love to see themselves in print.”
“Yes, but Grace is a nobody,” Addison said in annoyance. “She’s my wedding photographer.”
“She also married a billionaire that she never met,” Victoria added.
“That was just a—”
Victoria leaned forward and cut me off.
“Here’s what you do. We need to generate buzz if you want this coffee-table book off the ground. So, write a juicy tell-all about the bridezillas of Park Avenue. Come on,” she continued. “Surely you must have worked with some horrendous women.”
Don’t look at Addison. Don’t look at Addison!
“You can write an article using pseudonyms and change up the stories a little bit so you don’t get sued for libel, but articles like that always